Arrow in the Silence
by Athena Silverwolf
Summary: *spoilers for book 12* Will didn't think he'd ever get to have a child. But when he takes an apprentice from the Ward, he realizes that maybe he was wrong. Father-son Halt-Will, Father-daughter, Will-OC
1. Chapter 1

After Maddie graduated, the little Ranger cabin had just been too quiet. So Will had gone first to Gilan, gaining instant approval for another apprentice. Then he'd gone to Baron Arald and told him that the girl in the Ward this year were welcome to choose the Rangers. Arald had been quick to inform him that of the four, the three boys had already chosen their schools. Two were going to the Battleschool as the last went to the kitchens. It was the girl however, a tiny little thing named Aly who had caught Will's eye when he'd seen how she moved across the courtyard. She was silent and graceful, clearly well-coordinated. It was the perfect combination for a Ranger's stealth.

"You're sure you'd welcome another girl?" Arald checked. When Will nodded silently, the Baron explained, "Aly's not going to be anything like Maddie. She's shy and quiet as a mouse."

"What makes you think she'll ask for the Rangers?" Will asked, letting his cowl fall back away from his face. His endless curiosity had been woken now.

"She idolizes Maddie, and she does extra chores so she can watch the archers practice. Even made herself a sling," Arald replied, and Will nodded. After Maddie's success as the first female Ranger, girls had slowly, very slowly, started to join the Corps. Aly would be one of three female apprentices in various stages of their training.

"How did she do in her lessons?" the Ranger asked quietly.

Arald suddenly realized how like Halt will had become. The pair had done wonders for each other in the last two decades, and hopefully would continue for several more. "Very well. The teachers say she's the best in their year," he assured his former Ward-member.

Will nodded, started for the door, and was struck by a sudden concern. "Is she bullied?" he asked in a low voice.

Arald sighed, and Will knew the answer already. "The other Wards leave her be, but the village kids are not so understanding. Kellan and Grant, the Battleschool boys, they look after Croy and Aly."

"Good. Having a few big friends never hurt me," the younger man nodded with a feral grin, and Arald shook his head. Oh what a group that ward-year had become. "I'll be back tomorrow for the Choosing," Will added, then disappeared out the door. No one saw him leave.

Because he hadn't. Instead he was standing in the shadows of the courtyard, watching as a group of four kids settled in the lawn with various means of entertainment. The largest, who reminded Will instantly of Horace, was a short haired brunette. He was sparring with a practice sword with a second large boy that wore shoulder length sandy hair tied back. Will assumed they were Kellan and Grant. Beneath a tree nearby was a third, smaller boy. He also wore his hair cropped short, but his would probably be blonde if allowed to grow out. Croy, Will thought, seeing the sweet tarts the boy was setting out on napkins on the blanket. His large smile and quick words reminded Will fondly of Jenny.

But the last was the one he was really interested in. She had a small folder of papers and a pencil with her, and seemed absorbed in what looked like drawing even as she listened to Croy's cheerful chatter. Will watched as she distractedly brushed her hair out of her face only for it to fall back over her papers. Croy laughed at her as she huffed, but handed her a leather thong as she braided it deftly.

A moment later a piece fell into her face again. Croy turned away, laughing, and she yanked the tie out of her hair. She got up gracefully, shaking out her hair as she removed her belt. Will remembered Evanlyn disguising her sling this way, and nodded in approval. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a plain gray marble, dropped it in the pouch of the sling, and fired in one smooth motion.

The marble struck Kellan in the fleshy part of his thigh, and he leaped away as he whirled around. Grant found himself struck on the calf before he could start laughing, and both turned sharply to see Aly standing with the hair tie in her hand. "Grant, can you do the horse braid?" she asked softly.

"Sure, kitten," he replied, picking up her marble from the grass. Hidden in the shadows, the ranger watched in satisfaction as the two boys joined their friends. Grant sat behind Aly to braid her long hair the way he would a horse's tail for a tournament. When Will finally slipped away, the four had dozed off in the sunshine, and he moved close enough to look at Aly's paper. He had been right, it was a drawing.

And it was of him, as a faint outline in the shadows of the courtyard. But even more surprising were the words written across the bottom of the page. "Hello, Ranger Treaty," she'd written.

So Will bent down and wrote, "Hello, Aly."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thanks to Something like me, Monique Bowman, Eletta and Samuel La Flame for reviewing! **

"Kellan Tillson," Baron Arald nodded, and Kel stepped forward from the line of Wards. "Your choice?"

"Battleschool, my lord," the tall brunette asserted, and Rodney stepped forward to examine him. The three smaller Wards watched as the Knight circled their largest brother. It didn't take long for Rodney to nod and place his hand on Kellan's shoulder to draw him aside.

Arald didn't bother to hide his smirk and looked at the line of Wards. "Grant Holders," he continued.

The longer haired boy stepped forward as he announced, "Battleschool, my lord." Once again Rodney stepped forward, glanced at Kellan for a comparison, and nodded. Noticeably only to Will, standing behind Arald's chair, Aly flinched away from the knight for the second time. He sighed to himself, and watched as Grant was examined and approved. The master moved the second boy aside, and the two large apprentices nodded to each other.

"Croy Vanderwood," the Baron said.

The smallest of the boys stepped forward, chin high, and decided, "I'd like to be apprenticed to Master Chubb, my lord." He flashed a quick smile at the castle chef, only to be cracked over the head with the wooden ladle. And just like Jenny, the ladle could not make the wide smile waver. Once again, Aly flinched, but she'd moved even as Chubb shifted to reach for the ladle. Will took instant notice of the girl's reflexes, and the way she seemed to know body language. It would serve her well, even if it was born out of fear.

"Chubb?" the baron asked, looking over at his rounded kitchen master.

"I'll take him. He's already proven himself smarter than some in my kitchen," the gray haired chef replied, and Croy moved to stand beside him.

Aly stood alone, all eyes in the room on her. But she was looking right at Will, her heart hammering in her chest. If she'd gotten this wrong, she was doomed to a life of farm work. Will nodded as the Baron cleared his throat, and Aly swallowed thickly. Staring into piercing brown eyes, she found the courage to say, "My name is Aly Woodsman, my lord."

"And your choice, Aly?" Baron Arald asked gently, seeing how nervous the girl appeared.

Her steel gray eyes flicked from Will to the Baron, then back to Will again. He nodded once more, encouraging and accepting, and she found herself relaxing slightly. "The Rangers, my lord," she said, her voice strangely firm. The three boys stared at her in surprise until grins spread across their faces.

"Ranger Will?" Arald checked, knowing the man behind him would say yes.

"Accepted, my lord," Will replied, and Aly relaxed, eyes still locked on the Ranger who would be her mentor.

"Well then, congratulations, all of you. There will be a feast tonight for the four of you. Boys, you are to report to your schools at eight o clock tomorrow morning. Aly, report to the Ranger's cabin at six sharp," the Baron announced, and the four apprentices nodded. There were wide grins on the three boys' faces and a soft smile played with the corner of Aly's lips. The Masters filed out first, followed by the apprentices, until the Baron called, "Aly, stay a moment please."

The girl turned, her face closing off again to the composed mask. For a moment the Baron wondered if she would have chosen the Couriers if there had been an opening. Croy had the sense to close the door behind him, and Will stepped out of the shadows behind Arald's chair. He let the cowl of his oddly colored cloak fall back, and Aly noticed first that his brown hair was roughly cut, though it was neat. "Relax, my girl, you're not in trouble," Arald sighed, getting to his feet. He muttered a curse as his back cracked and popped, and Will smiled ruefully.

"My lord?" Aly looked up from the desk, curious now as Will came over to stand beside her. Will was glad to see that she did not flinch away from him.

"How did your parents die, my girl?" he asked gently.

"Mama died when I was ten, of the fever. My father was one of the castle huntsmen, my lord. He was killed by a robber who broke into our cabin when I was six," she told him, glancing at Will as she spoke.

She looked in time to see the flicker of recognition on his eyes. "The Greenway Robbers?" he checked, and she nodded. "Then you're the girl I pulled out of the river," he realized, and she once again nodded.

He remembered now. It had been a mission with Halt, just after he'd retired. A group of robbers had preyed on huntsmen and foresters in the fief, as they were isolated targets away from the villages. Will and Halt had set out to stop them, tracking the group across the fief. When the robbers had learned of the Rangers hunting them, they'd taken the daughter of the last victim as a hostage. At a confrontation on the bridge, Will had shot their leader, who'd dropped Aly in the river below. Will had dropped his weapons and dove into the water as Halt arrested the rest of the band.

"When your parents were buried, we collected some of their possessions. Those are to go to you today, if you want them," Arald explained. Aly's eyes flickered with pain as she nodded, and Arald opened a cloth bundle on his desk. He handed over a journal and a hunting knife, along with a simple ring. She took the ring, her hand closing around it as she recognized her mother's wedding ring. Will noticed instantly that she took the possessions of her mother, not her father. Logically, it suggested that she remembered and missed her mother, but did not have a strong memory of her father.

Eventually, she picked up her father's knife and journal, and Will excused himself, slipping out the door without a sound. "Your father was a good, brave man, Aly. I think he'd be proud of your choice," Baron Arald told her, and she looked up.

"Thank you, my lord," she replied, meeting his eyes only briefly.

"Aly, my girl, look at me," Arald instructed, and she looked up instantly. But when her steely gray eyes met his, it was not her who was unnerved. How did a fifteen year old girl have a stare like that? It was like she was looking straight into his soul and seeing everything. Seemingly sensing what had happened, Aly flinched and looked away, and the spell was broken. "Go, enjoy the feast, have some fun before the real work beings," he suggested with a kind smile, and Aly nodded.

"Thank you, my lord," she murmured, slipping out of the room. She closed the door softly behind her, then fled down the stairs to the courtyard. The odd prickle on the back of her neck told her someone was watching her and she looked around. When she didn't see anyone, she looked up at the windows around her, but could see no one.

Then she saw the fig tree. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ranger Will," she called softly, and disappeared into the Ward to pack her meager belongings.

"Thanks Pauline," Will smiled up at his surrogate mother as she set coffee before him and Halt.

"I know how all you Rangers are with that stuff," she smiled fondly at the mottled pair, and was rewarded with a pair of thumps on the floor. She looked down to see Sable and her brother, Oakley, lying at the Rangers' feet. Oakley was Halt's dog, and had been Will's retiring gift to his mentor.

"So, how is she?" Halt asked, pulling his feet off his wife's chair at her glare.

"She's got amazing instincts. I waited for her after the Choosing, up in that old fig tree, and she knew I was there. She saw me last night too, when I was watching her in the courtyard. Arald says she's expressed interest in archery, and she's already a decent shot with a sling," Will replied, sipping at his steaming coffee.

Halt considered him for a minute, incredibly proud of the younger man before him. Maddie had become a skilled Ranger, even with a limp, under his guidance, and he had no doubt that this Aly girl would be the same. "But?" he pushed, knowing his former apprentice well enough to see that there was definitely something off.

"Do you remember the Greenway Robbers?" Will asked, waiting for Halt's nod before he explained. "Aly is the hostage I pulled out of the river. And I think that experience may have done a lot more harm to her than just physical." When Halt raised an eyebrow at him, he elaborated, "Every time one of the big masters like Rodney moved during the Choosing, she flinched."

"But you said last night that her friends are big. Didn't one go into the Battleschool?" Pauline replied, and Halt once again marveled at his wife. She really did love people if she remembered that little detail about a teenager she didn't even know.

"I think Rodney would have begged him if he hadn't picked the Battleschool. The boy is as big as Horace was at that age. And actually two of them went into the Battleschool. She knows them though. I think it's because she knew them as kids, not men. She was taken by some pretty big men," Will told her.

"It could also be a trust issue. She was the one who let the robbers into the house, thinking they were part of the Sheriff's guard. She may not trust anyone, but only reacts physically to the ones who remind her of the robbers," Halt added, and Will nodded thoughtfully.

"You're taking her then?" Pauline checked.

"Of course." Will's tone said he thought it would be crazy not to take Aly as an apprentice.

Halt nodded, then asked, "Have you heard from Maddie?"

Immediately Will chuckled, a grin spreading across his face. "Horace and Gilan say she's keeping the third year assistants sharp. Apparently Gilan thought his paper-pushers were getting soft, so he set Maddie on them," he told them, smiling fondly as he told them of his goddaughter.

Halt nodded, and Pauline took the opportunity to ask, "And how is Jenny?"

"She's opened another restaurant, and I think Horace and Maddie eat there more than in their own halls. Gil said she's introduced a number of international dishes for Cassandra and Horace's guests," Will replied. "She's already claimed one of Sable's pups, though I'll start the Ranger dog training for Gil," he added, looking down at his expecting shepherd. She thumped her tail at her name, and he reached down to pet her head quickly.

Jenny had finally sold her restaurant to one of her own apprentices and agreed to marry Gilan about two years ago. Now everyone was holding their breath as they waited for a baby.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thanks to Sam and We The Treatys for reviewing! Also, one quick thing. I love constructive criticism, but I have to ask everyone to refrain on correcting my archery techniques. I am an archery coach and have an Olympic level coach of my own for my own competitions. That said, unless you are an Olympic level coach, please do not correct me. I use the USA Archery style, so other shooters may use other forms. This is what I know, and it's also the technique that Flanagan used. Thanks! Love you guys!**

Chapter 3

Arriving at the little cabin in the woods, Aly found herself greeted by a sleek black and white shepherd. The dog lifted her head off her paws, her tail thumping on the wooden porch as Aly set her pack down by the door. Manners told her to knock, but when there was no response, she looked around. "Where's Will, girl?" she asked softly, kneeling beside the dog to run her hand over the soft fur. The dog's reply was only to look towards the woods, where Aly could hear a deep, vibrating thrum followed by a muted thud.

The sequence increased in speed, keeping a steady rhythm for Aly to follow to the edge of an archery range. She watched in awe from the shadows of an old oak as her new mentor emptied his quiver with no seeming pattern into five targets at random distances and heights. After spending considerable time watching the Redmont archers, she knew the speed he was shooting was astonishing. Once his quiver was empty, he moved to set down his massive longbow and said, "You're early."

The cool tone of his voice made her think he was displeased. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to be late," she replied softly, moving out into the green tinged early morning sunshine. Will gestured for her to follow him, and she walked down the range towards the nearest target. It took both hands to pull his gray shafted, black feathered arrows out of the target. She handed them over when he returned to her side, and he was again pleased that she didn't flinch away from him.

"Why don't you take your cloak off and we'll get started?" he suggested as she followed him back to the shooting line. He'd noticed the faded brown cloak she wore, and she noted that he wasn't wearing his Ranger cloak. There was a cloth wrapped bundle lying beside his bow, and he knelt to open it as she folded her cloak. "These are the weapons you'll be trained with as a Ranger," he explained, letting her study the bundle for a minute.

"That's not a longbow," she murmured, kneeling opposite him. Glancing at him for permission, she picked up the unstrung bow, noting the unfamiliar curves at the end of the limbs. Unstrung, the bow was unbalanced and awkward in her hands.

Will nodded, pleased that she at least recognized the difference. "It's a recurve. You're not strong enough for the longbow. These two curves give you more power than a longbow of the same weight would have," he explained.

"How do I string it?" she asked, taking the thick string off the back of the bow. In response, Will pulled a cord with a loop on one end and a short sleeve on the other. Handing over the bow, Aly watched curiously as Will stood, slipping the loop over one limb before he slid the sleeve onto the opposite one. He stepped onto the stringer and pulled upwards, bending the limbs until he was able to slide the string into the notch on the limb. "And I unstring it the same way?" she checked, taking the setup from him. He nodded and watched carefully as she stepped onto the stringer and unstrung the bow.

"Use your back, not just your arms," he instructed, placing a light hand between her shoulder blades. "Good girl," he encouraged as he felt her push her shoulder blades together. She nodded as the work became easier, and she restrung the bow without asking. She stood perfectly still as he placed a quiver of a dozen black arrows on her back. "You shoot the same way, but we'll get to that in a minute. First a few rules," he continued.

"Don't let go without an arrow," she said softly.

"That's called a dry fire. The other thing is that you don't shoot without this," he replied, nodding. He slid a leather gauntlet onto her bow arm, knowing it would just be easier for her to get used to wearing it now instead of the basic arm guard he'd given Maddie. "Go ahead and try," he told her, stepping back. He watched her draw an arrow from over her shoulder and examine the feathers. He'd fletched them in gray, like Halt's, but had given her a black cock feather. Briefly he wondered how much time she'd spent around the archery range that she knew the cock feather faced out from the bow.

Aly for her own part was finding herself relaxing. Archery was familiar, comforting, allowing her to be calm around the mysterious Ranger. Her father had been a forester, a simple huntsman, but he'd been a good man and a good friend to the other foresters around Redmont. After his death, they'd expanded on the basics he'd taught his young daughter. They'd been helped along by the fact that Aly wanted to be like the Ranger who'd saved her. Though living in the Ward had cut her off from her beloved bows, she found herself remembering four years' worth of training easily.

Using the joints of her first knuckles on her fingers, she lined up the soft hook to draw the string. Her fingers protested at the sudden biting pressure, and she knew they'd hurt later. "What's the weight of the draw?" she asked softly, looking at Will over her shoulder.

"That one is fifty. I'll increase it as you get stronger," he replied, and she nodded her dark head. Glancing down at her feet, she shifted slightly on the shooting line and drew a deep breath. Then she lifted the bow, pushing out with her bow arm as she pulled the string back. Will noted that she turned her hips as she turned into the draw, lining up the shot with the first target. Her draw slowed as the resistance strengthened, but she managed to get it back to her nose. Raising the bow slightly, she released, her fingers slipping off the string to brush across her cheek and the bow twanged as the arrow flew away.

There was a muffled thud as it landed in the dirt just below the target. Aly frowned, then drew another arrow. "What did I do wrong?" she asked softly.

"When you draw, inhale and tighten your abdomen," he instructed, moving to stand directly behind her. He watched critically as she repeated the actions, and was pleased to see that she held a relaxed grip on the handle that didn't tilt the bow in either direction. Both he and Maddie had choked the grip, canting the bow to the left ever so slightly. But for a Ranger, it was enough to be a mistake. As she drew, he reached around her right side to press his palm against her stomach. The muscles under his hand tightened and they both saw the bow come up a bit.

He left his hand there until she'd fired again, and the arrow thudded into the very bottom edge of the target. Moving back with a nod, he said, "Empty this quiver and I'll show you the rest of your weapons." She nodded, brushing her bangs out of her face as she turned back to the target. He stopped her just long enough to give her the shooting glove he'd made, knowing her hands were too small for a traditional finger tab. The glove tied around her wrist, then ran a leather strap down the back of her hand. At her knuckles, the strap split into three, covering the back of her three shooting fingers. A padded leather sleeve slipped over the top of each of her three shooting fingers, covering half of each finger. It allowed her to put one finger over the knock, two under, and she didn't have to worry about dropping it.

Will noticed the plain band on the thumb of her right hand as she drew her third arrow, then scanned her for the knife she'd also received yesterday. When he didn't see it, he was oddly pleased. He wanted her to carry the weapons of a Ranger, not a simple forester. And she was already doing well with the bow, emptying her quiver at a good speed with an accuracy that got better the more she shot. Most arrows went just a little low, but they were all centered on a straight line down the center of the target. The last three went a little too high, and as she set her bow down she turned to him again. "What happened on those three? I didn't feel any difference," she said.

He was impressed. His first day as Halt's apprentice had been about the achievements that the older Ranger hadn't seen as achievements. Aly didn't see any achievement. Instead she asked what was wrong so she could make it right. "You dropped your elbow as you released," he replied.

"How do I fix that?" she murmured, hesitating as she tried to remember the last three shots.

"That's all in the back tension," he assured her, tapping her shoulder blade as she turned away to retrieve her arrows. When she came back, she knelt beside him and took the offered double scabbard. A furrow formed between her eyebrows as she set the scabbard down and drew the heavier knife from the bottom. She tossed it lightly, getting a feel for the balance, though she seemed confused. She'd handled a basic hunting knife before, but this was a heavy, wickedly sharp blade nearly the length of a short sword. "That's a saxe knife. It's our primary close range weapon, but it's also balanced for throwing. The smaller one is a throwing knife," he explained.

"Will you show me? I've never thrown a knife before," she asked, looking up at him as she drew the smaller throwing knife. Without breaking eye contact Will drew his own throwing knife and flicked his arm out. Aly whirled around at the dull thud to see the knife buried in the center of a target painted on a soft pine board. "But how does it work? How do you keep it from dropping into the dirt or hitting off the handle?" she pressed, getting to her own feet as he retrieved his knife.

"We spin the knife. One of the things I'll teach you is how to judge the number of spins you need for a certain distance," he assured her, replacing his knife so he could position her hand on the blade of her own. "Good, now bring it up, step out, and throw," he instructed. She glanced at him, uncertain, and he nodded. "Go ahead," he encouraged, but he knew the throw wasn't going to work. "Aly, if someone was running at you with a sword what would you do?" he asked gently.

"Shoot him," she replied instantly. She lowered the knife as he spoke so she could turn to face him.

"You can't. Your bow's been smashed," he said, remembering a verbal battle he'd had like this with Horace against Gilan. But he'd been learning the double knife defense in their camp in Celtica at the time.

"I'd run," she told him honestly.

"You're trapped against a cliff," he added. He saw the look of defeat pass over her face and she turned back to the target. Taking a deep breath, she brought the knife up, stepped out, and threw. "Throw the saxe and step with the other foot," he suggested wryly. The corner of her lips flickered up in a smile before she threw the bigger knife.

It landed in the dirt beside the first knife. This time, Will knew the real reason why. Her grip on the knife was tentative, taking away the main source of accuracy in the throw. When she returned to the throwing line with both knives sheathed he said, "You can't be afraid of the knives, Aly."

"I'm not," she snapped instantly. Fire flared in her eyes as she glared at him, but her voice was still soft.

"Then throw like you're actually trying to stop the person running at you with a sword," he ordered, a sarcastic bite to his words. Narrowing her eyes at him, she drew both knives, passing the saxe to her left hand as the right one flung the throwing knife. It thudded into the target with more force than last time, but still fell into the dirt. The saxe hit the board hard enough to make it rattle against the tree it was braced on. "Now you just have to hit him with the actual blade," he remarked, and she raised an eyebrow at his dry tone.

The girl moved to pick up her knives, then glided across the grass back to his side. Reaching for the oilskin, she picked up one of the strikers. Once again she tossed the weapon lightly, catching it easily on the leather wrapped brass tube. She hit one of the brass knobs on the end against her palm and her eyebrows went up. "What's it weighted with?" she asked, picking up the other.

"Lead. It's called a striker. We use them to knock someone out in case we need them alive," he replied, watching her flip it end over end. Taking the other one, he tapped it against her temple, the soft spot at the base of her neck, along her jaw, and behind her ear. He let her try it on him, checking that she'd gotten all of the spots, though she had to reach up. "You really are small, aren't you?" he remarked teasingly, trying to get a smile out of her.

It nearly worked. The corner of her lips curved up ruefully as she nodded. "That's why Grant calls me Kitten," she replied.

"Well, little kitty-cat, it's time for you to get a new coat," he decided, picking up the last thing he had for her. He shook it out, watching her eyes follow the motion as the cloak opened.

She ran her fingers over the mottled coloring, trying to discern a pattern to no avail. "I've heard people say Rangers use black magic to become invisible, but I'm guessing the magic is in the coloring," she told him.

"The other part is staying absolutely still even when you think you've been seen. Rangers have one overall rule about stealth and secrecy," he told her, seeing her nod. Fastening the cloak around her shoulders, she flipped up the cowl, tucking her dark braid under the folds. Then she raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. He nodded at the woods to let her try it and called, "Trust the cloak."

He let her have a few second head start, then moved into the trees after her. Beyond the birds and the wind he couldn't hear anything, and he nodded in approval. But she didn't yet know how to hide the evidence of her passing, so he tracked her easily to the base of a tree. "If you're ready to start being a human instead of a bird there's breakfast at the cabin," he called up. It was something Halt had said to him one day when he'd done the same thing.

But Aly didn't climb down from the tree he was standing in front of. Instead she dropped from the branches of a tree behind him. "I thought the point was for you to find me," she teased, a triumphant gleam in her steely eyes. He simply raised an eyebrow at her and she deflated. "I walked backwards in my tracks, then climbed up this one instead," she explained.

"Which is why I tied your old cloak to that tree instead of this one," he replied, gesturing behind her. Aly whirled around, saw the brown cloak knotted around a branch on the tree she'd actually climbed and sighed. Her shoulders went down in defeat, and Will couldn't help but pat her on the shoulder. "That was a good first try. You haven't learned to cover your tracks yet, and anyone but a Ranger would have thought you'd just gone up here, like you intended," he assured her.

"But the point is to fool you, and you're not just anyone. You're not even just any Ranger," she protested.

"No, I'm not," he agreed. "So how do you improve until you can trick me?" he tested.

"Practice?" she guessed.

"Is that a question or an answer?" he retorted.

"Practice," she declared.

He nodded, leading the way back as he said over his shoulder, "Lots and lots of practice." The dog sat up on the porch as they returned, and Will bent over to ruffle her ears. "This is Sable," he told Aly as she picked up her pack. The girl ran her hand over Sable's head as the dog followed her into the house, sniffing at Aly's new cloak. "You're also going to do housework in the morning. That means making your bed, keeping your room neat, fetching water, sweeping, doing dishes, cleaning the stovebox and fireplace, and every Friday beating the rug," he told her, and she nodded. She was no stranger to housework.

Leading her to the open doorway of her room, he gestured for her to go in, and she looked around. There was a vase of bright wildflowers on the windowsill, a folded towel on the end of her bed and a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. "I'll give you a few minutes to unpack, then come and have breakfast. Eggs and sausage sound alright?" he said, standing in the doorway behind her.

"That sounds wonderful," she replied, setting her pack on the bed. For some reason Will grinned wryly as he left. Taking a moment to explore her room, she pushed aside the curtain in the corner to reveal a closet. She'd brought only a single extra set of clothes and her brown cloak, and those took up only a fraction of the closet. The blue shirt with a lace-up neckline and brown leggings were hand-me-downs from Grant. Her drawing pad and pencils went in the drawer of the little table beside the bed, where a candle and washbasin sat.

The smell of frying sausage drew her out of the little bedroom, where she looked around the inside of the cabin. It was one room, with a small kitchen alcove and a living room. A plain pine table was ringed by four simple chairs with a small posy of more flowers in the middle of the table. In the joint living room, armchairs flanked an empty fireplace, and a small neat stack of firewood waited for night to fall. Two pans, one for eggs, one for bacon, sat on the cooking stove. She could also smell the sharp scent of coffee from the kettle on the hot plate.

Aly took a minute to explore the little kitchen, opening cabinets and cupboards to find pots, pans, plates, glasses, and mugs. She could feel Will watching her as she found bowls, silverware, the meat locker, and the bread box. "Could you get the honey?" he asked as he set the table. Turning back to the cabinets, she opened one with no luck. The next cabinet revealed the honey pot. She snagged a pear out of the bowl on the counter, biting into it as Will served eggs and sausage. Juice ran down her chin, and she hastily reached for a napkin as her mentor grinned at her.

"Just remember, you make a mess, you clean it up," he told her. She went to sit, only to be hampered by the quiver on her back. Glancing around, she saw the hooks by the door where a larger quiver and cloak already hung. It didn't take long to unfasten her own and hang them, then return to the table.

She waited for Will to start eating before she picked up her for and dug in. "Can you teach me how to make eggs?" she asked through a mouthful.

"If you can say it clearly," he retorted. She swallowed, looking sheepish, and repeated the question. "I'll teach you how to cook everything I know how to make," he assured her. Seeing her curious look, he explained, "Cooking is part of your training. You'll do a three month course on it, but until then, I'll take care of the meals."

Nodding, Aly reached for the coffee pot, only to draw back with a frown. "I don't know how to make coffee either," she added.

"That I will fix tomorrow. Every Ranger has to know how to make a good cup of coffee," he told her. As he spoke, he picked up the kettle and poured them both some of the strong drink.

"Why?" she asked, turning to pick up the jug of milk on the counter. Will frowned at her as she poured a little into her coffee, then rationalized that Halt had done the same for him when he was young.

"There's a saying among the Rangers that the only way to defeat one of us is to steal all our coffee," he told her. "We spend such long hours in the field, usually late at night, that we come to depend on the energy coffee gives us."

Aly raised the cup to take a sip, then set it down with a grimace. "Try this," Will offered, handing her the honey pot. After adding a spoonful, she found the coffee much better, and Will grinned. He added the honey to his own cup and explained, "Halt's going to say I've ruined coffee for you."


End file.
